The history of Dragon Coast is the history of money, particularly the darker-side of the coin. Situated between the inner sea and sword coast. These lands never coalesced into a solid, coherent nation. Instead small petty city-states have risen and fallen, powered by greed and the most powerful merchant or Pirate faction of the day.

As a result, the Dragon Coast has always been the home to the smuggler, the pirate, the rogue, and the hired killer. It has been the place where those seeking to skirt the laws of more civilized nations to the north make landfall. It is here that the Cult of the Dragon launches its plots to the south. And it is here that independent secret societies and assassin guilds have their greatest powers.

The last semblance of organized resistance to this trend was the reign of Verovan, last of the kings of Westgate. The monarchy of Westgate had long worked closely with the various merchantile houses and petty lords. His sudden and mysterious death without acceptable heirs in year 1248 opened the door for much of what now is commonplace in the Dragon Coast - Corruption and Treachery.

It should be noted that while Verovan's name is still venerated in these lands, better known is Immurk, the greatest of the Inner Sea Pirates, a brash and flamboyant rogue who united a pirate fleet beneath him and ruled from the year 1168 to his death in 1201. Such it is in the Dragon Coast, that good people are venerated, but the power of darker rogues is imitated.

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The dark elf known only as "Araith" ran from roof-top to foof-top, in an attempt to lose his pursuers. In the single largest port city in Dragon Coast, Dunbarr. His long black cloak was flowing in the rapid wind of the cool night air. Araith was an assassin of sorts, taking any job he could find. The only features visible from his dark shape are his piercing dark green eyes, silver hair, greyish black skin, and long black cloak. He stands at about 5'8", weighing no more than 150 pounds.

Araith took long smooth stides across the rough surface of the roofs of many buisness's in Dunbarr. His pursuers were made up of but three men. Though Araith thought it best to lose them than risk a confrontation with the men under the man he had just killed. The three men were angry and wanted Araiths head. But as agile as they were, they simply couldn't catch up with the speed demon drow. But they would not stop there, they soon got the city militia to send out search partys and offering rewards for the drow's head.

Araith had no property that he stayed at for any long period of time, but in his moment of need he remembered a haven he had used in the past. A tavern run by an old asset of his, who he had became buisness friends with. He knew that the tavern was his only secure place he could stay until things died down with his actions. So that was were he had to go, but with his luck, he found himself on basicaly on the other side of town than where the tavern was.

Great...the chase might pick up again if I get caught, oh well, I have to risk it...

With that, Araith started his slow cautious trek to the tavern._________

OOC: I suppose anyone can join this rp. Any fantasy humanoids can be played as characters, but nothing too monstrous. For now you can do what you like and make a sub-plot for your character, do as you like in this city of crime. But I will eventually shape this into one story as you will see later on down the line. No character sheets, just describe your character in your first post like I did, stuff like race, appearance, and job will do, anything else if you would like.Pm me any questions.

Chk'tk the Rat scuttled from an alleyway, caped and hooded, hands wrapped in mouldering cloth. A quick stab in the dark with the dagger at his belt had dispatched the mark, and now he was free to booze and wench. Even ratmen like him were viable clients for a proper whore, after all.He snuffled at the air, drawing in the scents of Dunbarr.Then, with a snort, he rushed off to his favorite tavern, the Brown Stream.He swept in through the door and went to his usual table, in the back left corner."Mead," he grated, "and quick wiv' it!" A tankard was placed on his table, and he began to snuffle it with gusto.Roguery, Chk'tk reflected, was more a truer business than most.He leaned back in his chair and waited for his next client.

The three gypsies were triplets, although they didn't look it. Laren was big and brawny, and to the uninitiated, very dim looking. Derris was a reedy man, tall and thin, and darkly handsome. The girl, Riisha, was a slender girl on the smallish side, and pretty in an exotic way. All three had the same black hair and the same purple eyes. They even dressed in a similar fashion, each wearing a different colored tunic over black trousers and tied with a black sash. Laren's was red, Derris wore green, and Riisha chose blue. They also tended to go armed, a necessity on the Dragon Coast. Laren carried a large sword and a bow. Derris carried two swords, smaller and lighter than his brother's, but no less dangerous. Riisha carried several daggars tucked into her sash in various spots.At the moment, she was engaged in juggling some of them. It was a habit she was trying to break. She started doing that whenever she got bored or nervous. Right now she was just bored. Laren was off doing something or other on his own, and Derris was, as always trying to pick up one of the local barmaids. He looked like he was making progress, which was why Riisha was bored. It was so much more interesting when he got himself into trouble. She was dimly aware that she was making some of the other patrons of the bar nervous, but she didn't care.She wondered what Laren was up to. The three of them swung through Dunbarr every now and then, for the pickings here were the easiest of all the Dragon Coast for a team of skilled thieves. Sometimes, they even got paid for their trouble.

It took Araith the better part of two hours, but he had finally made it close to the tavern, past all the dim-witted militia. But as Araith grew nearer, he began to think of his old friend Tallan, who ran the tavern. He was indeed an inteligent man. Araith got a few of his best employers from him. And they had shared a few good times together. But Araith would never get close to him, or anyone for that matter. He knew all too well the affects of losing one you are so closely bound to. That is what happened with his previous friend, Varante, the man who taught Araith, once an orphan digging in trashcans for food, the very arts of an assassin.

As Araith neared the Tavern, he remembered all the times when buisness was extremly slow, but somehow, Tallan found something to get him through the next week. He was a man everyone wanted to be around, though Araith generally sticked to himself, he had made a friend, something he hadn't done in a long time. He finally came to the entrance, though when he got there, there was a lot of noise coming from within, and many shouts came from a familiar voice. It was Tallan trying to calm some drunks down, though usually he could settle any matter and calm any man, these men were so far drunk they couldn't be stopped. A chair was launched out of a window, soon followed by an old man. A bar fight was beginning.....

Chk'tk snarled, and pulled his dagger from his belt. A large, meaty man with a scarred scalp glared in his direction. The bar brawl raged around them."My blade is sharp!" Chk'tk rasped at the man, raising the dagger in front of his face.Then, with a rapid motion, the ratman launched himself off the balls of his feet into the meaty rogue's face, clawing, biting, scratching, and slashing, with a screech of rodent fury.

She'd wondered how long it would take. Sometimes, Riisha thought that Derris might be under a curse. Sometimes, it was his own ineptitude that did it. Other times, it was sheer bad luck. This time, it was the inevitable boyfriend who objected to Derris's attempt in the strongest possible terms. The barkeep tried to calm him down to no avail. It didn't matter. Derris liked a good fight only slightly less than he liked women. And, as it must, within minutes it had spread to the rest of the room.Riisha waded cheerfully in. At least she wasn't bored anymore, and she had already drawn weapons. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw what appeared to be a ratman launch himself at a particularly ugly customer. She shook her head. Only in Dunbarr. A few minutes after the fight started, those who cared to look saw the big man approach the tavern. He was very large, and had to duck to enter the room. He surveyed the chaos with amusement. "Hey, Rii. What's the count?"Riisha flattened the fellow she was currently tussling with. "Derris has four, and I'm at three. Go to it, my brother." And Laren, who generally made people think that he had a giant somewhere in his ancestry (which he did not), also joined the fight. It probably wouldn't last too much longer, unless these drunks were made of sterner stuff than Riisha judged them to be.

OOC: In other rp forums I've been in, we've used italics to symbolize charcter thoughts, have you guys done that?_____________

Araith walked into the bar, immediatly as he entered it about a foot inside, a chair was flung his way, He easily dodged the ill-thrown object. This is going to be annoying.....As a rather large ill-balanced man came his way with the instinct to hurt him, Araith planted one foot firmly on the ground as he roundhoused the drunkman in the face, sending him sprawling into a table. A loud cry came from what seemed to be the man's friends. Two other men came towards him with a broken chair leg and a broken bottle. Araith crouched and in one smooth motion tripped the man with the broken chair leg, sending him towards the ground, hitting his head on a table, he was out cold. As the other man winded back to hit Araith with the broken bottle, he hit it out of the man's hand with his left hand, breaking it, and backhanded the man with his right hand, forcing the unbalanced man to fall towards the left, eventually crashing into another table. The men were so drunk, a mere squire could easily kill them all in their slugish movement. Araith walked towards the bar as he saw his friend the bar owner frowning on what was going on. Tallan was a man of big proportion, not extremley muscled, but any man could see the tone in his body from manual labor all his life. Tallan had brown hair and brown eyes as well, standing about 6'. When Araith reached him, he simply shook his head and turned to see the carnage still raging in the tavern.

As the meaty man thudded to the floor, Chk'tk landed too, standing on the man's chest. The ratman was half again as small as anyone in this tavern, even the very small woman who was wading through the crowd.What an excellent brawl, thought Chk'tk, and immediately sprang again towards the silver-haired, curiously dark man who approached the barkeep.

The young bard standing on the small stage if you can call two crates a stage was in the middle of a very bawdy song "The milkmaid was no maid"it was the common sort of crowd on the dragon coast mostly dangerous but Dale Goodfellow was not the sort to care if something or someone was dangerous he laughed to himself in his nineteen years the young bard felt as if he lived ten life times.He was tall standing well over six foot lanky his shoulder length hair was a chestnut brown that most women would find as beutiful his hazel eyes seemed to change colors from brown to green depending on his mood his size and looks was the cause of many problems and yet he survived most of them.Dale look on the crowd it was going to be a rough night he could feel it his bones a feeling he learn to trust looking to his case were he kept his lyre Dale lazily glanced at the three throwing knives strapped to the inner lid all the time thinking I hope I don't need them.As he was about to strum the next verse a chair was thrown through the window followed by some loud mouth lout drinks were thrown fist, kicks a some small blades began to appear.Dale quickly put away his lyre when a big brute came to stand in front of the bard "you were with my daughter yesterday!! the big brute brandish a large hammer" I have been waiting for this" the bard gulp "Crumbs".

Logged

Not all good storytellers are good writers,and not all good writers are good liars,but all good liars are great storytellers.

The three gypsies were working different areas of the room. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Laren had no need to draw weapons, and his other two siblings avoided their use when possible. The only reason that Derris even had one of his swords out was to fend off the frequent daggar strikes. He glanced up after delivering a violent blow to someone. "Six," he called across the room."Eight," Riisha called back."Five," called Laren. Then he knocked over three men at once. "Scratch that. Eight."That was the only problem with the game; he could take out more people at once than either Riisha or Derris.Riisha plowed through the crowd towards the bar. When she got there, she noticed that the ratman was aiming at the newcomer. She paid it no mind. Noticing that the barkeep's attention was elsewhere, she grabbed the almost empty bottle sitting on the counter and drained it. Then she hurled herself back into it.

Dale eyeing the big brute the young bard smiles "she was your daughter you the are the blacksmith" the brute sceaming"AYE" spit and drool flying in all directions the brute bringing down the hammer with a mighty crash destroying the crates into small splinters,Dale thinking of how rude it would be for his head to stop the journey of the hammer leaps backwards and started to move through the crowd hoping no one would hit him in his face.The blacksmith seeing the bard run began swinging his hammer through the crowd smashing all who would keep him from his prey slobbering on himself "YOU WILL PAY!!"

Logged

Not all good storytellers are good writers,and not all good writers are good liars,but all good liars are great storytellers.

Riisha barely noticed the young bard fleeing through the brawl, but she sure as hell noticed the man chasing him. The blacksmith, looked like. He'd probably kill the bard if he caught him. She'd seen that look on enough men coming after Derris to know what it probably meant. The bard was bolting, but it looked like the blacksmith had a very good chance of catching him.At least, it did until there was suddenly a whole lot of Laren in front of him. The blacksmith was huge, but Laren was just as big, if not slightly larger. "What, are you leaving the party so soon?"

Araith barely started talking to Tallan when a small creature came running at him, "You should probably move." Tallan quickly agreed and was out of the way of the two men. What sort of creature is this, looks like a large rodent to me... he thought as he caught a glimpse of the creatures head.

As the creature neared Araith, he unsheathed his two large scimitars so that they both pointed towards it. "Two scimitars to your dagger looks like a foolish attack to me." Araith smiled to see what the rodents response would be.

The ratman, leaping towards the dark person, landed, wobbling for balance, on the bar, hairless tail lashing.In reply to the silver-haired elf, Chk'tk said "In the Rathome, we learn early on to fight against great odds!"With a snarl, he launched from the bar at the dark-skin's chest, kicking out with both feet.

"In the Rathome, we learn early on to fight against great odds!" the rodent called to Araith before launching at him with feet first. Araith tucked in and rolled on his right shoulder to go to the ground to the right as the rodent came towards him. Araith continued the roll till he was on his knees. As Araith turned to see the rodent creature to the side of him still going in his initial direction, Araith took a sweeping attack with both scimitars to the rodents head as he passed.

Riisha was having fun, and by all appearances, her brothers were as well. Derris seemed to be taking on two at once, and Laren was tangling with the big blacksmith. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the elf by the bar had drawn his swords, and the ratman had hurled himself at him. "Uh, guys, they're starting to play for keeps, now," she yelled over the din."Whatever." Derris ducked as someone threw a chair at him. This place was never going to be the same. He dove behind the bar, and popped back up with a bottle. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a swig. When he finished, he recorked it, then threw it across the room.Riisha caught it, and did likewise. "Hie, Laren, you want some? 'Sgood." The big gypsy shook his head. "Naw, I'll get some later.""Eh, all right." Riisha took another pull, then flung the bottle back to Derris, who finished it off.A drunk, staggering backwards, collided with Riisha, and the momentum sent her sprawling. She landed near the bar, close to where the ratman and the elf were going at it. As she was picking herself up, she noticed something. A long piece of fabric had landed in the fireplace, and now flames were running along it out into the room. "Uh oh."

As Chk'tk slid to a halt, he felt a warm trickle on his head. He glanced up.Fires and d**nation!, Chk'tk thought furiously. He took the tip off my ear!But there was a more urgent problem at hand.Chk'tk's sensitive nose detected the flames before he saw them, but by that time the curtains on the window were blazing frantically.A massive press to get out the door had begun, though some fighting continued.Chk'tk leaped onto a man's shoulders and crawled over him onto the head of the next person, a tall, lanky man with black hair and purplish eyes.

"The hell?!" Derris roared, startled. "Gerroff me!" The ratman was clinging to his head and shoulders. Serious as the situation was, Riisha couldn't help laughing out loud. But she didn't laugh very long. The rest of the room had noticed the fire, and was stampeding out. Riisha had been knocked off her feet again, and she rolled over next to the bar to avoid being trampled. Meanwhile, Derris was trying to pry the ratman off of him. "Get... off!" Another drunk took a passing swipe at him, and he dodged it easily. He still looked ludicrus. And he knew without a doubt that his siblings would never let him live it down.Laren stopped playing with the blacksmith, and shoved his way through the press of people over to where his sister was, and helped her to her feet. "Just another night in Dunbarr," he said dryly.

Quick little bugger... The rodent leaped away onto a nearby man just to leap to another after him. Araith stood up, and seeing the fire, ran to the curtain that was ablaze and cut the end that was still burning off. After the curtain fell to the ground, Araith preceded to stamp out the flame, but loud voices yelling from outside sent him dashing for the wall near the fireplace. The militia was outside trying to shuffle past all the people getting out and the spectators outside. When Araith reached the wall he immediately melted into the shadows, allowing only those with superb perception to be able to spot him.

The militia was still trying to make it's way past the crowd. Tallan the barkeeper ran to the curtain aflame with a bucket of water, and after pouring it over on end of it, he preceeded to stamp out the curtain.

From beneath one of the very few still righted tables in the tavern comes a grunt, then the table neatly flips itself over into the escaping crowd, as the grunter roars, "SO MUCH NOISE! LET GORN SLEEP!" The man that rises up to his feet as the militia comes in is almost seven and a half feet tall, broadly muscled, and uglier than sin, with at least three broken fangs sticking out of lumpy lips. Definitely at least a touch of orcish blood there. "Oh. Gorn understand now, you want Gorn to fight!" A man's swiping hand that'd just missed a gypsy of some sort is deftly caught by the half-orc, and it's not long before the rest of his body takes flight too, in the general direction of the bodies pressing to get out and the militia pressing to get it. Time to have fun!

With his perch upset, Chk'tk clattered to the floor. Some ugly half-orc roared and hurled his bulk about above the ratman, treading right on his tail.With a squeel of pain and anger, Chk'tk snatched up his bruised extremity and scuttled away under the feets of the militia, tripping one in the process."Bloody maniacs!" he sqeaked on his way out into the street.

Laren glanced around the room. "And the authorities cometh. Are we wanted here still?"Riisha did some quick calculations. "I think it's been long enough for it to have cooled down. But I don't want to deal with them.""Right." Laren shoved his way through the crowd, Riisha trailing in his wake. Derris was just reeling out of the way of a big fellow that had been asleep under the table. He'd finally dislodged the ratman. He also stuck close to Laren. The three of them pushed out of the door, and contrived to be in the middle of the crowd. With any luck at all, they could easily get past the militia unharassed.